


Among the Ash

by CaptainCassidy



Series: Resident Evil: Caduceus [3]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Blood and Violence, Death, Delusions, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 18:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18675079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCassidy/pseuds/CaptainCassidy
Summary: She didn’t know what she hated more. The virus, or the humans who had brought it into fruition.If one were to ask, however, she knew what her answer would be.





	Among the Ash

Steel hated the virus and humanity in equal portions, though it fluctuate by the day. Sometimes she resented the men who had built this empire of necrotic flesh, feeding off its rotten juices as they spilled into the waters and swallowed whole the lands they touched. Sometimes she saw them as demons, crawling out from the labs of hell to tear the earth asunder, vomiting black bile into the grass and trees and flowers; bile that chewed through each living thing, warping it, changing it into something it wasn’t; something it was never supposed to be.

Other days, she hated the virus itself. It coiled about the necks of men, women, and children, suffocating them into mindless ‘undead,’ raping them and breeding within their blood and bones until nothing was left but muscle and teeth and tongue and vigor. They crawled about the floors, the ceilings; eating the live flesh of whatever crossed their path, leaving further infection in their wake. Eventually, everything not incapacitated would turn. Man or animal or plant or bacteria, everything would succumb to the writhing virus within.

She had watched it turn people. She had watched it be purposefully poured into water supplies, injected into unborn fetuses, spread on the flesh of the frightened and sobbing. Very little was left in the end. Crimson, so much red, of blood and muscle and hatred burning in their eyes; these creatures were agony incarnate, and in a way, perhaps she pitied them.

The innocents who were infected--  _ they _ are who she truly pitied. Crying and screaming men and women, whining and frightful dogs, once-harmless plants; everything fell victim to it, so gruesome and cold, and she felt there was little time to feel sad for all of them.

Somehow, the dogs were the worst. Their tails tucked between their legs, whining and screaming and crying-- somehow, even these creatures could cry-- as they were brought to ‘death’ by the sickness. And then they stood up again, vicious and angry, eager to tear the flesh of the men who had infected them.

Like this, they weren’t afraid of her. Steel did not bother going near the animals when they weren’t infected: they could smell the sickness on her, and she hated to see them hate her. But once they turned, once they were angry and blood-soaked and had flesh sloughing off their bones-- then they didn’t mind her company.

She would stay with them, sit in their containment, and see how well they remembered. Many still knew how to sit or fetch, and they would react to her nonverbal commands, as they had been trained to before.

They would not react this way to the humans.

No, none of the researchers could enter their containment without heavy gear, lest they be eaten alive and infected themselves. But the dogs-- the cerberus-- they thought of her differently. It didn’t surprise her; she was made to pass by other B.O.W.s without issue. They wouldn’t pick a fight without reason, especially those early sort who had only been touched by T. Some even ignored her entirely, as if she were a shambling corpse like them, walking amongst her own kind.

 

Steel was merciful by nature.

She didn’t cry when the cerberus were killed, she didn’t look away, but her heart ached to see so much life wasted. What had these dogs, these people, these plants, done to deserve this? Was their use for war-- a war that wasn’t currently being fought-- really so important? Was the risk of widespread infection not a deterrent enough? Did mankind know what it was doing at all?

The woman was made weak by the constantly-assured knowledge of their ignorance. Her will wavered and sank with her shoulders, her head bowed alongside her ability to feel pity, and soon, she felt as but a shell of something-- certainly not human.

Her fingers slid along the glass as she watched innocent faces twist into agony. Her flesh burned with rage as the useless creatures it created were cleaved into pieces and ignited. Her eyes narrowed with hate as the scientists congratulated themselves, each other, and their pursuits of  _ knowledge. _

They weren’t advancing anything. Only reaffirming their own evil.

If only she could end this madness, if only she could scream and thrash and make it all stop; Steel would, without hesitation. The needless slaughter made her sick. All she wanted was for it to  _ stop. _

But day by day, mankind assured her that it would not. Even where the virus wasn’t concerned, she read of war and famine and death, in a world where it didn’t need to be so. She watched them be wasteful and careless, coughed when the smog entered her lungs, turned away from the oil-slicked muck of the earth. Day by day, they killed themselves. Day by day, they cheered, claiming they were doing what was right; what needed to be done; what benefited the masses.

It tired her in ways she could never describe, even if she’d been able to keep her voice. The beauty of the world died in her hands, just as it did in theirs. She could no longer feel pity for them. Each new test subject was just another beast propagating this societal cancer. They felt no mercy, they felt no anguish-- she was alone in that.

Among a sea of garbage, Steel felt herself drowned by the oil. The virus mercilessly kept her afloat, forcing her to endure this torment year after year, refusing to let her swallow enough to die. It coiled about her, pumping through her veins, jetting black from each of them. She stayed standing because of it alone.

Steel grew tired.

 

There became promise for a new world.

Gone would be war and famine and plague, gone would be those who created them, and in their wake, those who deserved survival. She saw the black snake, spitting fire from its nostrils, coil about a great tree. It burned the world to ash, ravaged the land, upturned the soil and left only a fallout in its wake. Black scales were unscathed by man’s weapons, and eventually, everything fell into ruin.

Once nothing was left, the snake coiled back around a dead tree, swallowing its own tail and laying its head among dead roots to rest.

But beside its sleeping maw, something grew. Fertilized by the ashes of humanity, a stem reached up, grasping at the dust-hidden sun, leaning against the serpent for support. Leaves and flowers bloomed forth, and seeds fell to the ground. The snake opened an eye-- red as hellfire-- and gazed down upon the tree. It did not stir.

 

By the human’s hands, by the serpent, by some freak accident-- eventually, the world would end. Everything that ever was would be no more, and finally, her heart could rest. At one time, she had been patient; thinking she could outlast them by will alone. As the clock ticked on, however, she felt a hand needed to be urged forward.

Steel sank her teeth into the flesh of the serpent, to prove herself to him. She hissed and bit and clawed, lashing out against those who had wronged her and swallowing their blood; it made her sick to do. She drove them away, screamed in silence over their comrade’s corpses, and lashed her tongue despite her missing vocals. She crawled up from the ash, filthy and furious, eyes like cold fire as she stared down the serpent.

She sought mercy where there was none.

The snake did not strike.

 

***

 

She didn’t know what she hated more. The virus, or the humans who had brought it into fruition.

If one were to ask, however, she knew what her answer would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Just another character study for Steel-- if you can't tell by now, her abuse has rendered her pretty much delusional and dependent.
> 
> Yes, the serpent Oroboros (Uroboros), is meant to represent Wesker. Shocker.


End file.
